


A gander at Gladstone

by KingFranPetty



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Bad Humor, Bad Jokes, Bad Poetry, Comedy, Endearments, Humor, In-Jokes, Jokes, Light Angst, Other, Poetic, Poetry, Sad Ending, Some Humor, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tragedy, Tragedy/Comedy, Writer's Block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingFranPetty/pseuds/KingFranPetty
Summary: So here is a poem about my thoughts on the luckiest duck in the world.





	A gander at Gladstone

Come one and all to see the show, it's a rather exciting display. 

Come on, don't miss out on this. 

You wouldn't want to miss what will be the talk of the town in the next few coming days. 

Golden and green, four leafed and most beautiful too. 

That's right, Mr. Gander has come to grace both me and you. 

It's always sunny on the Gladstone, not a drop of rain to see. 

Marvel stars and poor alike, at the man who's never been plucked a feather in life! 

Look and see, he found $20 but won't share it with you nor me. 

Never the hero, rarely the villain. 

With absolutely no relatability! 

Wealth and frame, he'll be the same. 

Just never like anybody. 

Oh green is envy and jealousy. 

Gold is sunshine and pocket change. 

For whomever wants to read about the man with everything? 

For whom cares about the lucky ones? 

They have never known our suffer. 

They have never worked hard to gain so very little. 

And yet, how Petty of me. 

Fate smiled a blessing on himself. 

Should I feel justified if my eyes turned green? 

How mean I am to sour such looks with bitter salt. 

Jaded, is yet another shade of green. 

Greedy hearts steal and break, leach like in capabilities. 

Do not mistake my words in blacked out hate. 

Worry not for my eyes, they cannot truly be envy ever greens. 

No, as I dance electric ink into spiral words. I take pity for he, Gladstone. 

Why he? 

Why pity? 

Simple dearest, lovely, loveable, Reader. 

For whom is more alone than the man at the top of the world? 

For who else would take sympathy on he, whom nobody relates to? 

So as you leave. 

As you are no longer amazed at the show. 

Know in your red, blood, hearts, empathy. 

And know the cursed blessings. 

Know the everlasting tragedy. 

Of He. 

Gladstone Gander. 

The Lucky Duck.


End file.
